


I am content, dream like content.

by intherubble



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Marijuana, Overstimulation, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intherubble/pseuds/intherubble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Zayns thinks Niall is counting the hits until it’s acceptable for him his bury his face in Zayn’s crotch, not even having to repack the bowl before he’s whining for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am content, dream like content.

The first time it happens it catches Zayn off guard. Niall’s tucked snug behind him, spooned up in the corner of the couch, joint cradled in the seam of Zayn’s lips so when he drops his head back onto Niall’s shoulder Niall can pluck it away easy. Niall takes a drag and Zayn can feel his eyes simmering low on the side of his face. He turns and they share the toke lazily between them, Zayn’s intake too apathetic to catch all the thinned smoke Niall blows to him through slack lips. Zayn’s eyes slip closed and holds it in til he feels that pleasant itch at the back of his throat and turns away, because he’s courteous, to let it out.

He’s starting to get that hyperaware tingle to his skin so the first skate of Niall’s nose over the underside of his jaw makes his exhale go shaky, trying to expel more air than he has in him to give. He feels Niall’s teeth scrape down his vein where his pulse is thrumming. And they’ve done this before, Niall gets mouthy and needy when he’s stoned and Zayn doesn’t mind letting him suck on his tongue if it means he gets to watch Niall’s cheeks go all splotchy pink. But then Niall is licking a fat stipe from the edge of his tattoo to the thin skin behind his ear and something feels different.

Niall licks up his throat again, like he likes the taste, and his hand that’d been sitting idly low on Zayn’s stomach presses down firm, pooling heat in Zayn’s belly at the feel of Niall shifting his hips against the small of his back. Niall’s hand slides down over the hem of his shirt til the tips are edging under the band of Zayn’s briefs, peaking over the top of his jeans. Zayn turns back to look at Niall, his eyes look droopy like he can’t open them all the way and is sucking down the roach til it’s singing at the pads of his fingers.

Niall raises his eyebrows at him, lethargic, “Yeah?”

Zayn swallows and says, “yeah,” just as slowly back. Niall stretches over to drop the roach in a beer bottle sitting on the floor, letting out a huff of exertion and the air is so saturated Zayn can barely recognize the smell of bud on him anymore. But then Niall is using the momentum to roll over Zayn and awkwardly shuffle down his body.

Zayn wants to snark about how Niall didn’t even kiss him first because he can’t seem to calm the thundering of his heart against his ribcage at the sight. He doesn’t end up having time to though because Niall is pulling apart the fastening of Zayn’s trousers like he’s been thinking about doing it all day, taking him in hand and sucking Zayn’s cock head into his mouth, still mostly soft but the slick of Niall’s tongue hits him like a punch and he groans at the feel of his body going stiff so fast.

-

That first time Niall sucks Zayn off quick like he’s too eager to hold himself back, mewling when Zayn pushes him off after coming down his throat, and ruts himself off against the couch cushions. After that it starts off a pattern for when they smoke together.

Sometimes Zayns thinks Niall is counting the hits until it’s acceptable for him his bury his face in Zayn’s crotch, not even having to repack the bowl before he’s whining for it. Sometimes he’ll slip to his knees while Zayn’s still smoking, take Zayn out of his pants to work him into hardness. Sometimes he’ll push Zayn’s shirt up, his pants down, so he’s all bare flesh around his dick, pull marks to the surface of the soft skin down there as he watches Zayn’s cock rise for him, Zayn still taking hits off the bowl and basking in the arousal curling around the center of him.

This time Zayn’s on the fast track to creaming his pants. They haven’t been able to smoke in almost two weeks and ever since they started whatever this is, jacking off seems like a waste of jizz if Niall isn’t there to swallow it down.

He’s so hard up it doesn’t take much more than Niall nosing under his balls, heavy and trapped above the waistband of his shoved down briefs, pressing the flat of his palm to the underside of Zayn’s cock so it smears slick on his belly, and Niall looking at him through lowered eyelids, like he’s trying to be fucking coy, for Zayn to shoot his load. He goes shivery with it, bones turning to liquid from the feel of Niall petting him through it and the dub he’s smoked mostly to himself.

Niall _hums_ to himself, probably disappointed he didn’t get a chance to have Zayn in his mouth, shuffles Zayn’s pants all the way off and goes to lick off the cum where the majority landed low on Zayn’s sternum. Zayn’s not sure if he has enough energy in his wrist to get Niall off, hopes Niall’ll be content humping his thigh or something and has to hold back a snigger because Niall probably _would_.

Then Niall is tonguing down the line of hair from his belly button to where his cock is resting, still fat but going limp quick. Niall sucks the head into his mouth thoughtfully, like that’s possible, and Zayn yelps because it’s _toomuchtoomuch_ , but his body is too spent to put of much of a fight so his hips just jerk violently, hands going to scrabble in Niall’s hair and _grip_. Niall keeps sucking on him, sloppily nursing his cock, and it hurts but all Zayn can do is groan and writhe.

Niall slips one of his own fingers in his mouth alongside Zayn’s dick and Zayn distantly has a feeling he knows where this is going. Niall’s teased him with it before: wetting a finger and circling it around behind his balls until he found the soft spot where Zayn’s body gave, but Zayn usually nutted off before Niall could properly go through with it.

Now Zayn’s slowly coming back to oversensitive hardness and Niall’s finger is trailing between his cheeks with intent. Niall’s mouth pulls off Zayn’s cock with a _pop_ and it flops down obscenely against his stomach, saliva trailing from it.

Niall asks permission with steady eye contact and then is opening Zayn up with a slow finger _in_. Zayn breaths out slowly against it, trying to melt into the pillows, Niall’s finger doesn’t exactly have much girth so it’s nothing if just a little uncomfortable. Niall’s lips go to the seam of Zayn’s hip, licking at the sweat gathered there, but there’s a little wrinkle to his face like he’s concentrating. Zayn feels the finger in him move but it’s not really _thrusting_ just sort of wiggling like it’s getting its bearings. Niall nudges it up so his knuckles are pressed to the flesh of Zayn’s ass, curling like he’s telling Zayn to come closer and _oh_. Zayn’s throat catches and he his body bears down involuntarily.

Niall grins up at him then and goes to slurp his cock back into his mouth, slowly starting to massage that spot inside Zayn. Most of the pain’s past and now Zayn is just shaking and trembling because it’s still so fucking _sensitive_ and Niall finger fucking him is unfurling a fire inside of him. One of Niall’s hands is anchored on the bare meat of his thigh and the broad expanse of it, the warm weight of Niall’s palm, is sending goose bumps between his legs.

It’s obvious Niall taught himself how to suck cock from pornos. He’s always putting on a show, dragging his lips up the side, kitten licks at Zayn’s balls. He can suck like a fucking hoover though, hollowing his cheeks dramatically, not afraid to choke himself on Zayn’s dick, trying to take him all the way down, or get spit all over his chin til he’s _dripping_ with it.

Niall brings Zayn off like that, pressing another finger next to the other and jabbing in with rough thrusts that Zayn works back onto, cock fucked deep into the back of Niall’s throat. This time when he comes and goes to groan Niall’s name his voice is shot from the way he’s been moaning like a bitch in heat. Niall pulls off enough that Zayn can watch the way he spurts onto Niall’s waiting tongue through slitted eyes, hips stuttering as Niall keeps jacking at him.

Niall slides his hands so they’re resting on Zayn’s knees as Zayn slowly comes down from his vision edging white and even that feels like too much right now. He lets out a long slow “ _fuuuuck_ ,” watches limply, feeling like his brain is seeping out of his ears, as Niall sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Zayn’s gaze tracks down him, finding all the places his skin is ruddy: his cheeks and nose, his throat, shoulders, his chest that’s bared where the neck of his tank top’s slipped down. His eyes find where Niall’s cock is straining against the material of his briefs, wet splotch bleeding through the fabric and Zayn has no idea how he’s resisted getting himself off yet.

Niall’s breathing heavy and reaches a hand down to clutch at his own dick, looks like he’s gripping tight to stave off the need. They stay there, panting and watching each other until Niall reaches over for the bowl where they left it before. Apparently it’s not cashed and Niall takes a few deep hits, slowing down his breathing and looking like his cock isn’t such an insistent ache anymore.

Zayn’s starting to feel pretty selfish because all he wants right now is for Niall to spoon him and take a nap, wouldn’t mind if Niall rubbed one out against his ass, but Niall is looking at him with glazed eyes. He says, “Roll over.” Voice rough, throat abused, and it doesn’t sound like a question.

When Zayn comes this time it’s with tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, clawing up the sheets in his hands and a chunk of pillow gripped between his teeth, Niall’s tongue finding its way between the fingers fucking Zayn open.


End file.
